


MILITARISTIC ANIMA. (STAR WARS)

by lohaer



Series: LO'HAER LEGACY. [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic, swtor - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 19:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7654561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lohaer/pseuds/lohaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>┌STATS.<br/>WHO : Jelliam Lok/Lo'haer (geh-lie-aim or geh-aye) & Colonel Brillemn Lo'haer/Jorgan (beh-rill-aim).<br/>WHERE : Galaxy.<br/>INSP : SWOTR KOTFE.<br/>SUMMARY : Jelliam Lok & Brillemn Lo'haer from the Lo'haer Legacy. The Second o'r ke'gyce cuyir Mandalore and the HAVOC CO.</p><p>The background and various stories from these OC cousins. Including but not limited to rewritten scenes from Revan to KOTFE, romance with Torian Cadera and Aric Jorgan, and endless drabble. Can be graphic. ┛</p>
            </blockquote>





	MILITARISTIC ANIMA. (STAR WARS)

Late into the day, the daughter of Mandalore the Vindicated, Jelliam Lok, receives a priority Holo. Strange, considering her information wasn't given out to just anyone. Stranger still was the message contained, an unknown voice speaking in choppy, unpracticed Mando'a. ❝ Taap par te second o'r ke'gyce. Aliit: Jelliam Lok. Cuyir'sol Holo. ❞ Coordinates, in summary. Far away from where they were, presently Darvannis alongside the new Mandalore. Shae Vizla, Mandalore the Avenger. An eerie silence settles over her tent as Torian rose a brow. It’s the music of madness: stewing paranoia in her bones. It wasn't unorthodox to come to the assumption that it was another assassination attempt.  
Since her father had passed she had non-alien supporters from all clans out for her blood. Truthfully, she appeared completely human, but her eyes simply didn't work properly and that earned her the title of an alien——- MIRALUKA. 

❝ Don't worry about it, cyare. Ni got gar norac. ❞ ◣ basic ◢: ; lover. I got your back.

As a band of celebrating Mando'ade spiral in their beskar outside the tent, she finds a tiny string of comfort shining from her secret husband. This, because she knew her father too well, and Torian would've been dismembered had he found out.  
❝ Atin'la sarad. ❞ he would call her, a tough flower. She was Artus Lok's pride and joy, ever since she was born. So she had been told. 

She makes the call there & now, either chance it as always and wander out to the middle of Wild Space, or risk being wrong. Better to die with honor than to die a coward.  
❝ I'll follow it, but I need you to stay on Darvannis. People aren't gonna assume I left without you. ❞ neither of them would be fond of this idea, this she knew in her heart, but she would rather take a risk with some strategy behind it, than a risk that could land the only family she had six feet below and burning via pyre. J'ee didn't expect to take very long, after all, only so many people could stand a chance against the Grand Champion of the last Great Hunt before Zakuul and their damned machines.  
Dead bolts rattle and clank against the rusting metal aboard her ship, blessedly adding sound to the otherwise completely silent atmosphere. The ship had been in rough shape when she first stole it seven years ago, now it was a miracle that the thing was still holding together. Normally Blizz would've taken care of it, tinkering and whatever else he did in his spare time that didn't include bothering Torian and Gault.  
Making the jump, a series of clattering noises would bring life back to the otherwise dusty and vacant vessel. 

Upon arriving at the given coordinates, it was far from what had been expected. A ship, freighter maybe, even a small fleet of other stolen starships. But an entire planet was a bit of a stretch. It looked completely uninhabited, just another planet full of trees and water, no lights or signals being picked up. Unsurprisingly, Jelliam was mere seconds away from turning tail and heading back to the warzone, under the assumption that this was just another wild bantha chase.  
❝ Jor'lekir aliit. ❞ ◣ basic ◢: ; Confirm identity. A voice broke through the comm, a private comm, one that no one should be slicing.  
Jelliam frowned, staring with piercing white-blue eyes at the comm. No image appearing amidst the light blue flickers. The voice repeated, this time with urgency.  
❝ Who is doin' the askin'. ❞ she commands in the way she speaks: a force to be reckoned with, even without the force itself. A figure appears in a glitch via holo, where her ever-expanding map of the galaxy should be. A male that all but screamed 'SIS' adorning a leather jacket and blasters——- he almost looked like one of the goons that was sent after her during the Great Hunt. Republics Most Wanted turned out to be a far more exciting title. As it turns out, you can't kill numerous Jedi Masters and Padawans alike without the authorities taking notice.

❝ My name is Theron. I'm speaking on behalf of the Commanders: I think you'd know them better as the Outlanders. ❞ he spoke with some sort of pride. He had done this before.

❝ Those twins that killed Vitiate? They're still in carbonite on that shiny new planet. ❞ J'ee didn't chase ghost stories, and this one had gone to both ends of the Galaxy and back in the last two weeks. As was the story of some 'Alliance' that was going to highhandedly defeat the Zakuulians. It sounded too easy, Mandalorians didn't often spry for easy.

❝ I thought that too at first, but trust me on this. ❞ her arms folded, staring blankly at the holo image. Theron cleared his throat, ❝ We're looking for some more heavy guns to take on the bigger jobs on the front line. Who better than a Mandalorian Princess? ❞ 

Jelliam continues to glare as he speaks, she wasn't a Princess, nor had she ever been. Second In Command of Mandalore had been her title once, but those days were gone. Since Zakuul, since her father...  
He could obviously tell that she wasn't near sold yet from the other end of the line, and he spoke again, ❝ Listen I don't like this any more than you do, but we don't have many options and as it stands right now you're our best chance to start making craters on their soil. I've never known a Mando that would refuse a chance to go into a battle on the front. ❞

❝ And you're some kind of expert on us now? You don't look like you've seen a real battle a day in your life, Republic lacky. ❞ it was all she could do not to snort and cut off the channel, high tail it back to the real war.  
He didn't seem too rattled by her taunts, he handled it like it was just another day. He was used to it, and that irked her. A reaction was all she wanted and she wasn't getting it, it was infuriating, but she didn't make a vocal fuss about it. It would completely ruin her reputation as a straight-faced-no-shit woman. That reputation was the only one that hadn't been ripped out of her grasp this past five years.  
❝ So you're content fighting off droids on Darvannis with people my intel says are intent on getting rid of you? ❞

A chuckle would break past her plush tiers, shaking her head almost mockingly, ❝ I can handle anti-alien Mandalorian's, Agent. ❞ she paused to settle herself onto the Captains chair, posture nonexistent, ❝ I'm in, but they follow my orders down there. ❞ ❝ We weren't expecting anything different. ❞  
If this was a trap, like she was still suspecting it to be, she would rather have Torian safe now that her grasp on the enemy was even the slightest bit more firm. Leaving him behind would crush him and wipe his honor right back to the drawing board, and Jelliam didn't have the heart for that. Not when it came to his honor. But she knew her choices now were slim.

Hours later she finds herself in a meeting room, only surrounded by strangers and people she didn't frankly trust. Their narrowed eyes told her that they, too, trusted her about as far as the could throw her. Dark, grey eyes – a storm & the bottomless sea – stare at her like she held the answers to the universe. The woman looked older, and she'd obviously seen battle, judging from the hood of her eyes and the dings in her armor. It wasn't beskar, no wonder it was so easily battered and bent.  
J'ee feels out of place, standing as tall as her frail stature will allow, and horrendously taught. Pale yet bright light traces the gentle slope of her face. How worn away she looks in contrast to these people, they all looked tired, but fresh. They weren't veterans as she was, but they weren't green, either.  
❝ I just don't see what you're thinking, Theron. They're powerful allies but you know that they aren't easily controlled. ❞ the undoubted Imperial accent pierced the air, it was hushed, but J'ees helmet allowed her some better hearing. That, paired with fractured sight made for incredible hearing, ❝ Does Darth Imperius know about this? The Admiral is likely indifferent - this is her crowd regardless. ❞

They were located at another terminal just parallel to where she stood. The blonde Sith peered beyond her shoulder, quickly straightening herself. The woman showed respect, but her lack of immediate trust wasn't exactly uncalled for——- truthfully it was wise not to place trust in one that slaughtered your kind. J'ee didn't hold that against the woman, the hushed gossip just beyond her vicinity on the other hand, she took mild offense to. Although, she finds it funny. The struggle, the irritation, the way that all of them are staring at her like a rankor freed from its cage that ran rampant through a shop of finery on Alderaan. Her smile is phantom behind her gold-yellow helmet. Enigmatic.  
❝ If you aren't making a stand on Darvannis or Mandalore, then why bring me here? What am I gaining. ❞ her finding humor on the topic didn't stunt her need for further knowledge before throwing herself blindly into someone else's wars for them.  
She is a fragment of herself, vacant & empty & and cold as these strangers size her up like some Hutts dancer. Questioning her worth in this endeavor, whether the benefit outweighed the risk, was her best guess. Her mouth is open behind the helmet. Breathing easily. Her dirty blonde hair a halo around her head within.

 

❝ Our Admiral can't continue taking on the front line on Zakuul anymore. We need someone with the same.. vigor that she has. Who better than Mandalores finest. ❞ announces a stranger in a cold & unfeeling way. Accent easily identifiable as Imperial, just as the blonde. Statuesque, the new voice is a looming darkness that watches & a spire that looks on with luminous blue orbs. J'ee's tongue, swollen & lofty, strikes the roof of her mouth. There is a heavy power that follows, and though the strangers face is covered by a dark green tunic, J'ee feels as though she knows her. Impossible as it is, the feeling is not easily shaken.  
❝ You're oddly open with newcomers about your weaknesses. ❞ 

❝ But we're not strangers. ❞ the woman responded. The way she held herself said something, pushing a thought into the deepest parts of J'ee's mind that she never dared venture to. One word. ＦＡＭＩＬＹ.


End file.
